Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the Door
The handle moved only half an inch before Marco caught it.
Adrian pulled Elena behind him.
No one spoke.
The apartment remained dark except for the cold blue glow from the laptops.
Elena's heart slammed against her ribs.
A second voice came through the door.
"Open it."
Adrian remained perfectly still.
The man outside laughed softly.
"You're making this difficult."
Adrian said, "You came into my building."
"Not yours."
"Everything becomes mine eventually."
Even in terror, Elena almost turned toward him.
That was either the most arrogant thing she had ever heard or the most terrifyingly confident.
The voice outside replied, "Not this time."
Marco looked at Adrian.
Two fingers.
Two men, Elena guessed.
Adrian motioned toward the hallway leading deeper into the apartment.
"Take her."
Elena immediately said, "No."
His eyes flashed toward her.
"This isn't a discussion."
"Someone outside specifically said they came for me. That makes it very much my discussion."
"Elena."
"Stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Saying my name like you're my father."
"Your father would probably tell you to hide."
"My father died when I was nineteen."
Something flickered across Adrian's face.
"Then let me be the person telling you now."
It should not have affected her.
It did.
The man named Marco tugged lightly at her elbow.
"Ma'am."
"I'm twenty-eight. Don't ma'am me."
"Elena," Adrian warned.
She glared.
Then followed Marco.
They moved into a back bedroom that appeared even less lived-in than the rest of the apartment. A mattress. Two duffel bags. Security monitors mounted on one wall.
Marco opened what looked like a closet.
Behind the coats was another door.
Elena stared.
"You have a secret room?"
"Safe room."
"That's worse."
"Inside."
She stepped through.
Marco followed and shut the concealed door.
The room was narrow, windowless, and lined with screens.
Every camera in the building appeared before them.
Lobby.
Garage.
Elevators.
Hallways.
Fire stairs.
Elena found the fifth-floor feed.
Two men stood outside Adrian's door.
Both wore dark jackets and baseball caps.
One looked directly at the camera.
Then lifted a gloved hand.
He held Elena's apartment key.
She leaned toward the monitor.
"That's mine."
Marco looked.
"You sure?"
"I keep a brass key with a blue dot painted near the teeth."
The camera zoom was good enough.
There it was.
A faded blue dot.
Elena's stomach dropped.
"But mine is..." She reached into her pajama pocket.
Nothing.
She checked the other.
Nothing.
She remembered holding it when Adrian opened the door.
She remembered him looking at the scratch on it.
Then?
She had not thought about it again.
"Someone took my key."
Marco's face hardened.
"When?"
"I don't know."
He radioed Adrian.
"Boss, they have her apartment key."
Adrian answered quietly.
"Understood."
Elena pointed toward another monitor.
The fourth-floor hallway.
Apartment 4B.
Her door was open.
Someone was inside.
A shadow crossed the doorway.
"That's my apartment."
Marco swore.
Elena moved for the hidden door.
He blocked her.
"Absolutely not."
"My laptop is in there."
"Buy another."
"My father's photographs are in there."
Marco paused.
"My mother's jewelry. My passport. Everything."
"People are more important than things."
"Easy to say when they're not yours."
His expression softened slightly.
"I know."
On the screen, a man walked out of Elena's apartment carrying a small wooden box.
She stopped breathing.
It had belonged to her father.
A plain cedar box she had kept in the back of her closet since college.
She had never opened it.
Not because it was locked.
Because her mother had asked her not to.
"Don't," her mother had said after the funeral. "Your father wanted you to have it someday. But not yet."
That had been nine years ago.
Elena had almost forgotten it.
Until a stranger carried it out of her apartment.
"What is that?" Marco asked.
"My father's."
"What is inside?"
"I don't know."
He looked at her.
"Never opened it?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because my mother told me not to."
Marco muttered, "Families."
"What?"
"Nothing."
The man carrying the box entered the stairwell.
Marco immediately radioed.
"Subject leaving Four-B with wooden container."
Adrian's voice returned.
"Do not pursue."
Elena stared at the radio.
"What?"
Marco frowned too.
"Boss?"
"Let him go."
"Why?" Elena demanded.
Adrian did not answer.
Then Elena realized.
"It's bait."
Marco looked at her.
"He's letting him leave because he wants to see where he goes."
"Maybe."
"No maybe."
She turned toward the monitor.
The men outside Apartment 5C disappeared down the stairwell.
A minute later, the power returned.
Marco opened the safe room.
Adrian stood outside.
"Are they gone?" Elena asked.
"Yes."
"You let them take my father's box."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because whoever sent them wanted us to fight for it."
"So?"
"So I don't do what my enemies expect."
"That's wonderfully philosophical. I want my box back."
"You'll get it."
"When?"
"When I know why they wanted it."
"You knew about that box?"
Adrian did not answer quickly enough.
Elena saw it.
"You did."
"I knew an object connected to your father might matter."
Her entire body went rigid.
"My father has been dead nine years."
"I know."
"Why do you know anything about my father?"
Adrian looked at Marco.
"Give us the room."
Marco left.
Elena folded her arms.
"Start talking."
Adrian walked to the window.
Below them, Manhattan glittered as though nothing had happened.
"Your father wasn't only an accountant."
"He worked for a freight company."
"He worked for several."
"Yes. He changed companies."
"No. He changed names."
Elena stared.
"What does that mean?"
"Thomas Renner handled financial records for businesses that moved money internationally."
"Accounting."
"Money laundering."
She laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was absurd.
"My father barely broke the speed limit."
"He also testified secretly for a federal task force."
The room seemed to shift.
"No."
"Elena—"
"No. Absolutely not."
Adrian reached for a folder.
She did not take it.
"He died in a car accident."
"That's what the report said."
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying your father spent the final eighteen months of his life collecting financial records against an organization called Serrano Group."
The name meant nothing.
"He was supposed to hand over evidence. He died before he could."
Elena's eyes burned.
"You think he was murdered."
"I think someone wanted the evidence."
"And now they think I have it."
"Yes."
"The box."
"Possibly."
She turned away.
Her father singing badly while washing dishes.
Her father calling every Sunday after she moved into college.
Her father teaching her how to change a tire.
A criminal accountant.
A witness.
A target.
None of it fit.
"You knew all this before you moved upstairs."
"Yes."
"Then why me?"
"Because Serrano's people started watching you."
"You could have told police."
"We don't know which police officers they own."
"Federal agents?"
"Same problem."
"Convenient."
Adrian's gaze sharpened.
"You think I enjoy sitting above a stranger's apartment every night waiting for someone to kill her?"
Elena met his eyes.
"No. I think you enjoy deciding things for people."
That hit something.
His expression closed.
"Perhaps."
"Why do you care?"
He looked away.
For the first time since she had met him, Adrian Vale seemed unsure what to say.
Finally: "Your father once saved my life."
Elena stared.
"What?"
"I was twenty-two. Stupid. Arrogant."
"Hard to imagine."
His mouth almost moved.
"Thomas discovered someone inside my father's organization had sold information about me. He warned me three hours before an ambush."
"Your father's organization?"
Adrian's silence said enough.
Elena felt cold.
"So the rumors are true."
"Some."
"Mafia."
"I prefer businessman."
"Of course you do."
"Your father did something no one expected. He protected a man from a family he had been helping investigate."
"Why?"
"He said children shouldn't pay for their fathers' sins."
Elena looked at him differently.
Adrian continued, "I owed him."
"So you're protecting me because of a debt."
"At first."
The last two words settled between them.
Elena's pulse changed.
She looked away first.
"At first?"
Adrian took a step closer.
"You are difficult."
"Thank you."
"Reckless."
"You're welcome."
"Stubborn."
"Keep going."
"You marched into an apartment occupied by four armed men while wearing rabbits on your feet."
She glanced down.
"They're comfortable."
"I believe you."
For the first time, he smiled.
It transformed him.
Not completely.
But enough to make Elena suddenly understand why dangerous men in expensive suits were a problem in romance novels.
She immediately disliked that thought.
"Stop smiling."
"It happens occasionally."
"Not at me."
His smile faded slowly.
Something remained in his eyes.
"Fine."
A phone rang.
Marco reentered.
"We've got the car."
Adrian became businesslike again.
"Where?"
"Queens. Warehouse district."
"Box?"
"Still with them."
Elena said, "I'm coming."
Both men answered simultaneously.
"No."
She glared.
Adrian said, "You're staying here."
"Then I'm taking the subway."
Marco actually laughed.
Adrian did not.
"You won't get out of the lobby."
"Try me."
Adrian stepped closer.
"Elena. Someone broke into your home tonight."
"Exactly."
"They may kill you."
"They may have murdered my father."
"Which is why I need you alive long enough to find out."
That stopped her.
Not his authority.
The truth.
She hated that he was right.
Adrian turned to Marco.
"Move her to the Mercer house."
Elena blinked.
"The what?"
"One of my properties."
"I'm not going to one of your properties."
Adrian ignored her.
"Use the underground exit. Two cars. Change at Canal."
"I'm literally standing here."
Marco wisely disappeared again.
Elena stepped into Adrian's path.
"You cannot relocate me like a houseplant."
"No."
"Good."
"I can relocate you like a target under threat."
"That's worse."
"You'll survive being angry."
She stared up at him.
"Do women usually do what you tell them?"
"Most people do."
"That wasn't my question."
His eyes held hers.
"No."
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because I was beginning to worry your entire personality had been built without adversity."
Adrian laughed quietly.
It startled them both.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
The humor disappeared.
"What?" Elena asked.
Marco came back from the hall at the same time.
"Boss?"
Adrian turned the phone toward them.
A live video feed showed the car carrying the wooden box.
It had stopped beneath an overpass.
The rear passenger door opened.
A man stepped out.
He placed the cedar box on the pavement.
Then backed away.
Elena leaned closer.
The box opened.
Inside was not money.
Not documents.
A small cassette recorder sat in the center.
Old.
Dusty.
A red light blinked.
Someone had activated it remotely.
Audio crackled through Adrian's phone.
Then a man's voice spoke.
Elena grabbed the table.
She knew that voice.
She had not heard it in nine years.
Her father.
"If Elena is hearing this," Thomas Renner said, "then Adrian Vale has finally found her."
Adrian went completely still.
The recording continued.
"Adrian, there is something I never told you about the night I saved your life."
A pause.
Elena stared at him.
Then her father's voice said:
"The man who ordered your death was not your enemy."
Another pause.
"It was your father."
May you like
The video suddenly cut to black.
And somewhere downstairs, an alarm began screaming.
